


Now That, My Friend, Was a Shared Moment

by candesgirl



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: F/M, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-11
Updated: 2012-03-11
Packaged: 2017-11-01 19:48:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candesgirl/pseuds/candesgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Third in a series of one shots, all stemming from a request that started with Pike/You in a fantasy style. Kirk being my personal favorite, I decided it was his turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now That, My Friend, Was a Shared Moment

Captain James T. Kirk’s hand is moving quick up your thigh, right there at the bar, blatant enough for anyone to see. You shoot him a look as it moves higher, half an inch away from slipping under your skirt, bite your lip as he quirks a cocky eyebrow at you, shoots his drink and motions toward the bathroom, his hand moving towards yours, pulling you up out of your seat.

You follow him blindly, this young captain who wandered into your bar on his first shore leave in months, follow him to the dimly lit bathroom with no lock. Once there he pushes you up against the door, kissing you like his life depends on your breath, wet and messy, each flick of his tongue against yours pulsing between your legs. He licks a stripe from your mouth to your ear, pulls back to look at you, to ask if this is okay and damn it if you can form any words to answer him.

His hands are all over your body, calloused fingers dragging over cloth, desperately searching for the warmth of bare skin. His fingers dance over your belly, your hips, trailing over the low slung denim before moving back up, pulling your shirt with him, grazing your nipple with his thumb. Your breath catches as he replaces his thumb with his mouth, teasing and sucking and licking as he gathers up your skirt, pushes aside your panties. You encourage him with breathy moans and whimpers, with a tongue against his ear, asking him for more even as he works your clit expertly between his fingers, his hips already thrusting shamelessly against you.

Your hands move down his back and around his waist, to the button and fly of his off duty, dusty old jeans. He moans as you press against his zipper so you do it again, and again, working him through the fabric until he rips away from you and shoves them down himself, grips your hips tight and thrusts impatiently up into you in one fluid, vigorous motion. He’s groaning about been too long and fucking hot and oh god so tight and wet and you know that everyone in the bar can hear him, can hear you together but you don’t care, not when he’s grabbing the back of your thighs to pull your legs around his body, not when he’s telling you it’s okay, he’s got you and he’s fucking hard up into you, slamming you against the door and drawing words from you that you weren’t even sure you had.

His grip is tighter on you, his thrusts more erratic until he’s shaking under the force of holding you up, trembling on the verge of his orgasm until he stills with an honest to god whimper and you clench around him tight as you can, your own release teetering just on the precipice. 

He pulls back to look at you with half lidded eyes, breathing heavy and voice dark as sin, asking if he can make you come, god, please I want to see you come too and then he’s on his knees there in front of you, greedy tongue lapping at you, lips sucking on you like you're some kind of sweet, honey coated candy. Hot fingers slide against you like velvet until you come loudly for him, your body tingling all over even as he makes his way back up, licking the sweat off your skin, smoothing your clothes back into place, pulling his jeans back up and leaning over with a sweet kiss on the cheek before he whispers thank you.


End file.
